Free Room With a Clue (Pennyfoot Hotel Mystery) by Kate Kingsbury

however.”
    “True. But who would want to murder Lady Eleanor?”
    “That I couldn’t say.”
    Cecily frowned. “I do wonder where Mr. Danbury was while his wife was on the roof.”
    “I believe he was in the gardens. I saw him leave the foyer a little after the grandfather clock chimed a quarter to seven.”
    “That’s right. Now that you mention it, I remember seeing him make for the stairs about ten minutes before John and Phoebe came to tell me about the accident. I didn’t take too much notice as my attention was on Colonel Fortescue.”
    She looked up at Baxter. “What do you suppose Robert Danbury was doing out there in the rain?”
    Baxter ran a finger around his stiff white collar. “It’s possible he had a rendezvous, madam.”
    She pretended to be shocked. “With a woman?”
    “It is possible.” Baxter gave her a look that said he knew perfectly well she was aware of the goings-on among her guests.
    Cecily preferred to keep up the pretense, however. It eliminated the temptation to gossip, though it was difficult to ignore the rampant grapevine below stairs. “I wonder what P.C. Northcott will make of all this?” she murmured.
    Baxter made a sound that sounded like “Pshaw!”
    Cecily had long been aware that Baxter and Stanley Northcott did not see eye to eye, though she had never known the reason for it. She’d once heard Baxter refer to the policeman as a bumbling fool with a lump of hog fat for a brain.
    True, P.C. Northcott always took the path of least resistance, but then nothing much happened in Badgers End to get him excited. Cecily had the distinct impression that the constable was not the fool he appeared to be.
    Although he lived in Wellercombe, seventeen miles away, that town was under the jurisdiction of Inspector William Cranshaw, who was much too involved with taking care of his busy borough to bother with the petty problems of Badgers End.
    Which was why P.C. Northcott had been given the job of policing the village. This accident, happening as it did to a prominent member of Society, was most likely the biggest thing to happen to Stan Northcott in his brief career.
    Cecily glanced at the clock gracing the mantelpiece. “Well, it will be a while yet before the P.C. arrives. I’m sure our conjectures are nothing more than flights of fancy, but perhaps I could ask a few questions before he gets here, just on the off chance I can find something a little more convincing than a mere possibility.”
    “I think that would be an excellent idea, madam.”
    She nodded, then pushed her chair back to rise. “I can’t afford a scandal, Baxter. I can’t afford to lose my customers. As I’m sure you’re aware, it took every penny James had to finance the renovations for this hotel, and it will be years before the loans will be paid back. If it’s at all possible that I can find something to help our case, I have to try.”
    Baxter leaned his hands on the table and fixed her with his dark brown gaze. “Madam?”
    “Yes, Baxter?”
    “You will take care?”
    She smiled. “I would say I have more to worry about from Henry than I do a possible murderer, but I’ll be on my guard. Now I want you to do something for me. That wretched snake has to be somewhere around, unless it has decided to go for a swim in the ocean. If so, we are likely to have another problem on our hands. In the meantime, I’d appreciate it if you would conduct a thorough search of the premises, as unobtrusively as possible, of course.”
    “Of course, madam.”
    She left him diligently cleaning the ashtray, and climbed the stairs to the third floor, wondering how she could be tactful about the questions she needed to ask.
    *     *     *
    Mrs. Chubb found Madeline in the conservatory, watering the tropical plants before she left for the day. Quickly she explained the dilemma. “Poor Phoebe will be most horribly mortified,” she added, after filling Madeline in on the events of the past hour or two. “You